


Long Term, Enabled

by Dragon_Sensei



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Caboose Is a Good Bro, Everyone Has Issues, It is now, No beta we die like cryptids, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tags Are Hard, Why isn't this a tag?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2020-04-24 14:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19174765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_Sensei/pseuds/Dragon_Sensei
Summary: There's a lot of things that the Reds and Blues don't know about each other. It makes sense, none of them are particularly fond of talking about their lives before Blood Gulch, and sometimes, not even then. That's fine, they're not total assholes. Dr. Grey, despite her general outward appearance, knows what she's talking about when she says someone has issues. To no one's surprise, they all have PTSD, to some degree.One would assume that Wash and Carolina, and then maybe Sarge, would have it the worst. They wouldn't be wrong either, but sometimes it's the little things that clue you in on the real problem.If Dr. Grey's reports are anything to go by, the Reds and Blues are in for a shocking revelation.Too bad they never saw the reports...





	1. Pilot

Caboose, despite what other people thought, wasn't dumb. He knew things! Things like, time goes in circles, they had been stuck in a singularity, Church was dead for real this time-

 

He didn't like that one.

 

That was fine, dying happens. Even if it seemed like most of his friends just couldn't die at all, Doc and Donut and Lopez died all the time! Not really, of course, but you see his point. The bad guys died a lot too. The Director, Sharkface, Hargrove, the Meta....actually, Caboose wasn't sure why, but he didn't like it when the Meta died. It always made him sad for some reason.

 

Anyways...Caboose wasn't dumb. Yes. Washington said he was a genius, that meant he was smart! He liked Wash. He felt bad that he had to get brain damage again to fix time, but he understood it was necessary. And when Wash got out of the hospital, Caboose would help him feel better. Carolina said that Wash kinda acted the way he did all the time.

 

Caboose understood what she meant, but in a way she was wrong. Caboose's brain didn't make him forget things, like Wash's did, it was just that sometimes his brain would think too fast and sometimes he wouldn't remember how fast time was actually moving. He brain also repressed things so he wouldn't think about them. Or at least that's what Dr. Grey told him.

 

Either way, he didn't want to make Carolina mad, or even worse, sad, so he agreed with her. It didn't really matter that much, he'd still help Wash, but it wouldn't be the same. That's okay. Caboose's mom told him you should always help your friends. Or did she say allies? His mom was pretty funny sometimes. He missed her. She was one of the smartest people he'd ever met, and she was a blue!

 

 

It made him think about the Labyrinth for some reason. He wasn't sure why. Actually, what happened in the Labyrinth again? All he remembers before the others came was that....huh. Maybe his brain repressed it. It wouldn't be the first time...

 

Oh well....

 

 

“Hey Caboose! We're gonna go get Wash from the hospital, let's go!” Tucker shouted from the door. “Okay, coming!” Caboose ran towards the door with a smile on his face.

 

 

 

“ _Hey Xavier?” “Hmmm?” “Do you ever wonder if our parents would be proud of us?” “Nope.” “Why not?” “We're fighting in the war, why wouldn't they be proud?” “That's a good point.” “I know.”_

 

“ _Get a move on soldiers! We don't have time for chit-chat!” “Yes sir!”_


	2. Grey's Orders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In short, nobody knows how to deal.
> 
> Except for Caboose, apparently.

Things were a little tense, to say the least, when Wash was discharged from the hospital. Carolina and Donut were the only ones to ever really see him the way he was now, before the paradox. So, the others didn't know how to act around him, and that led to Wash getting stressed, which led to memory lapses. Later on, when someone would try to apologize to him for whatever argument they had had, Wash wouldn't remember it at all. Que more stress.

All in all, Wash's rehabilitation wasn't going well, so everyone was stressed. Everyone except for Caboose, anyways.

 

Wash loved his friends, he really did, but none of them seemed to get it. He appreciated that they were trying, and he felt bad when he lost his temper, so more often than not during the first few weeks home he would guide his wheelchair outside to sit with nature. He hated the wheelchair, but he knew better than to argue with Dr. Grey about these things. So, until he was cleared for physical therapy, he was stuck.

 

 

 

 

She was right, after all.

 

 

 

Wash woke up after a nightmare, panicking and weary. He grabbed the sheathed throwing knife from under his pillow, and in said panic, jumped out of bed. Well, he tried to anyways. He ended up falling to the floor and pushing his wheelchair across the room. Great. By the time he managed to get across the room Caboose had showed up.

“Do you need help, Washing-tub?” He'd asked. “Just...let me try doing it myself, please.” Caboose, uncharacteristically silent, just nodded. Much to Wash's surprise, he seemed to understand what was going through Wash's head. Eventually, after a ten minutes of struggling, Wash admitted defeat. “Okay, not tonight. Can you help me up Caboose?” “Okay!” And before he could blink, Caboose had him in the wheelchair. Wash knew Caboose was weirdly strong, but it somehow always surprised him when Caboose picked him up without trouble.

Caboose seemed to notice the knife on the floor, and a look of understanding lit up his face. Without a word, the giant teddy bear of a man picked up the knife, placed it in Wash's lap, and started pushing him out the door. “Caboose, where are we going?” Caboose paused in the living room, grabbing a throw blanket off the lounge and threw it over Wash's shoulders. “You'll see!” Wash wasn't sure how Caboose could sound so exited about something and still be quiet enough not to wake the others, but he was. It was also surprising that despite that fact that Caboose was taking care of him, it didn't make him feel helpless, like he sometimes did when the others tried to help. He appreciated it, but sometimes it was just too much.

His train of thought was cut off when he noticed that they were in the park a block away from where they were living. It had been decided, after everything was said and done, that they would stay on Chorus. Kimball provided them with a small, recently repaired base that was remodeled to act as a shared apartment for the Reds and Blues. It worked out because most bases, including this one, had ramps instead of stairs, so there would never be a need to add anything while Wash was stuck in the wheelchair. The design helped Sarge deal with his inability to live a normal civilian life, the closeness to the main city helped Grif deal with his unspoken issues with isolation, while also dealing with Carolina, Wash, and more recently Tucker's constant anxiety towards hidden threats. The building had three floors, with the Red's rooms on the top floor, the Blue's in the middle, and everything else on the lowest level. They had a basement, but that was mainly used for storage.  
Caboose came to a stop by an open area in the park, normally used for morning runs and children's ball games. Now though, it was empty. “Sometimes, when my dreams make me sad, I come out here.” Caboose said. “I look at the stars, and the moons, and everything I can see in the sky.” Wash could see why he would, it was beautiful. Wash would've thought by now he'd be sick of stars, with how much traveling among them he did throughout his life. But the view never seemed to get old.

 

“Thanks, Caboose.” Wash said, and he meant it. Before he even realized it, Wash fell asleep again, and when he woke up, he was in his bed, knife tucked under his pillow and the throw blanket folded on his end table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caboose? Helping people without killing them? More likely than you think.
> 
> Seriously though, he's the perfect person to help Wash adjust, canon or otherwise. He's been low-key confirmed to have brain damage in the show, he knows what's up.


	3. Haircuts and Jurassic World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...I'm alive?
> 
> Writer's block held me hostage don't fite me please
> 
> GuEsS wHo'S gOnNa TaLk AbOuT gRiF's IsSuEs

Grif...had issues. Don't get him wrong, it has nothing to do with his eating habits, or his attitude towards life. Yes, everyone made fun of his weight, but that never bothered him too much. He's Hawaiian, that's just the way he's built. No, that's not what Grif's problem is.

 

His problem was that he can't stand being alone.

 

It was stupid, he knew. He used to love it. It was quiet, he had the spot he was in to himself, no one was asking him for stuff. But after being alone on that moon for so long, he couldn't stand it anymore. Dr. Grey said there was nothing wrong with wanting to be around other people, that it was in the nature of humans to constantly seek companionship.

But she was also inspecting a severed arm while she said that, so Grif felt he had good reason to doubt her.

 

(He didn't though, not really. After all, Dr. Grey was never wrong about these kinds of things.)

 

But he was a human, so it wasn't long until his not-anxiety got to him and he left his room.

It was unnervingly quiet as he made his way to the meeting-room-turned-lounge on the first floor of the base. Logically, he knew it was because the others were off doing their own things. Simmons was being his kiss-ass self, following Sarge around as he did...whatever thing he was doing now. Last Grif heard Sarge had given up his war on gravity, and had instead started one with the...garden? He honestly didn't know, but Doc had gone with the other two to help, and Lopez went along to make sure they didn't blow anything up. Donut was still on his trip across the universe, and Carolina and Tucker had taken Wash to his physical therapy session.

So that left...Kai and Caboose.

 

As Grif approached the lounge, he could hear them both talking from the hallway. “Sister, are you almost done?” “Yep! Just...gotta do this....and...finished!” By the time Grif made it to the lounge, he was more than a little suspicious. “Kai, what are you doing...oh.”

As the pair looked towards him, Grif noticed that Caboose's hair was no longer tied up from Tucker's failed attempts at taming the man's hair. Kai had cut it short, added highlights, and spiked it up. It actually looked pretty good on him, all things considered. The main color was the same shade as his armor, but looking closely, Grif could see the occasional part that matched Church's armor.

Grif wasn't about to say anything to ruin the happy moment Caboose had going for him right now by bringing it up. After the whole Shisno thing, they had all found out about his...probably unhealthy coping method. Grif couldn't see Caboose's face under his helmet when he confronted Genkins, but he knew what a grieving person sounded like.

So instead, Grif smiled to himself, and if it was a little sad, it wasn't like Kai was gonna point it out. So maybe, just this once, he'd say something nice. “Not bad Caboose.”

 

No one could ever prove that the matching grins on the duo's faces triggered his older brother senses.

(And maybe, just maybe, it cleared up his anxiety for a little while.)

 

Later on, after the duo turned trio sat down for an impromptu movie marathon, Wash's group got back from the session. At some point during Jurassic World Caboose and Kai had fallen asleep, leaning against each other.

 

No, Grif didn't throw a blanket on them, it never happened.

 

“Whoa, how'd you guys pull that off?” Tucker exclaimed. “Uh, what?” At this point, Grif was a little confused. “Caboose got a haircut.” Wash pointed out, like that explained everything. “Yeah. What about it?” “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get him to sit still for that?” Carolina asked. Grif shook his head. “Nope. Kai was the one who did it, try asking her later.”

 

Grif may have said he didn't know, but he had a feeling he did. After all, Kai used to have trouble sitting still too.


	4. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

***DEMONIC STITCH LAUGHTER***

 

I can't believe it heckin dead

 

(Srs though, I thought it would take longer. But hey, I'm not complaining)

 

I'll delete this when the next chapter comes out, but until then, back to your regularly scheduled screaming into the void :)

 

                                                                                                                                                                                           ~̵̢̧̧̨̢̨̨̨̢̡͔͖̣͇̯̖̬̦̞̫̮̲̹͖͕̭̥̱͉̙̪͇͇͚̻̫̙̗̰̪͎͉̮̫̘̖̗̯̻͇͚̯̯͈̞͇͉̦͎̠̯͙̬̦͖̯͇̘̜͖͎͔̪͈͙͉̯̳͓̱̜̦͕͖̜̼̦̺͓̲͙̫̝̼̜̦̜̻̰̪̆͋̓͑̌̈́̔͛̒̈̈́͑̃̒̄͐͒̍͂̚͘͜͜͜͠͠͝ͅͅͅͅD̶̨̢̡̨̨̛̜͍̘̦̭̙͕̭̠̬̦͔̝̮̫̲͖͔̻͉̍͋̅̈́̌̆͐̓͂͌̃̋̊͊̓̌̈́̈́̍̎̿̎̓͂̚̕͘͜͠͝͠͠͝͝͝r̸̨̢̨̢̧̧̢̧̨̧̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̤̞̠͚͙͔̖̥̗̹̦͖̠̘̖͙̩̦̙̬̫̱̲͕̰̮̠͉̜̗͍̝̗̤͓̰͎̗̰̟͙̙͎̳͎̭͉̭͖͇̱͍̺̱̘̰͉̼̱͙̩͈̝͔͚̳̯̜̪͚̹̟̩̞̼̞̰̳̯̣̠͍̫̝̼̤̣̙̱̮̟̩̬̱̝͎̺͙̍͑͑̒̿̓́͋̑̔͂̈́͒͆̈́̏̀̄̍͐͌̍̓̏̀̓͆̏͆̌͒̋̿̃̾̿̿͒̌͗̽̓͑̑̎̈́̓̍̎͂̃͐͆̓̐̒́̾̓̏͋̈́͛̉̍̓̌͋̏̅͊̂̆͌́̔̊̌͂̾̈́͆͆̍̐̃̄̉̌͐̋͒̔̌̈́̀̐̍̓̏̄̃͂͗͗͑̈́̅̎̂̽̓̇̃̎̿̄̓̌͑̀̽̉̐͗̉̈́́͋̾͂̂̉̋͆̆̏̔̒̈́̊̌̔̒̚̕̕̚̕̕͘̚̕͘̚̚̕̚̚̚͘͘͜͜͜͜͠͝͝͝͠͝͝͠͠͝͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅà̶̢̢̢̨̢̡̨̨̧̡̧̨̨̡̨̨̡̢̡̢̢̨̡̡̨̨̛̛̛̤̞̦͇̟̼̜̫̠̣͎̥̝̬͖̥̰̳̖͚̲̲͉̗͙͇̫͇̘͓̝̖͙̝͚̺͉̞͍̘̹̜̺̗̹̱̜̙̲̤̘̩͈̟̤̜̻̤̤̞̙͉̱͍̣̯̩̺͕̜̭̬̰̟̲̩͍̺̮̭̥̘͙͎͖̝̹̼̗̖͇̗̤̼̼̲̝͖̗̼͇̞̬͈̲̞͓͉̩͎̬̦͙̱͈͈͉̭̲̦̲͉̻͇̻̦̮͔͈͔͖̩̘̙̤̦̗̫͚̺̖̬͔͓̟̖̲̺͖͙͔̙̤͇͔̗̼̰̖̖͔̗̯̼̤͙̯̰͇̭̺̭̭̯͍͙̣̻̝̜̯̣̠̠͖͉̭̥̫̖̮̰̲̻̳̲̣̼̝͕͉̳͇̩̹̆̍͂͐̓̒͋̒̅̇̏̊̅͋̈̍͋͗̉̅̃̊̿̋͊̇̿̆̽͂̐͒͋̍͊̑̉̅̃̽̈́̆͋͋̾͂̈̐̿̇͑͛͗́̌̇͑̉̉̑̊́͂͂̉̾̾́̈́̎̐͐̂͆̒̉͗̿̍͑̄̐̐̿̈́̅͛̎̋̔̒͒͑̒̚̚͘͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͝͠͝͝͝͠͠͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅg̴̛̛̛̛̛̛̛͚͌̔̄̓͂̑̑̈̇̈́̌͆̈̈́̇̇̈́̔͌͒̒̂̆̄̓͊͒͒̎̎̑́̐̊̃̋͒͛̊͐̓͐͛̈̂͌̿͋͛̈́̽̊͋̓̋͋̆̇̄̅̇̓͗̓̾̐̔̽̀̄͐̆͗̓͐̈́̔͑͌̂̎͆̋͂͑̓͗̒̂́͗̔̌̈́̀̄̌̅͑̒̃͌̄̽̌̾̉͂̿̀̏̿̿͂͒̽̋͛͊̓̉̾̾̀̃̾̓̏͂̈́̀̽̓͑̓̄͂̓͊̇͆̉̑̑̌́͌̾͋̂͘͘͘͘̚̚̕͘̚͘̕̚̚͝͠͠͝͝͝͝͠͠͝͝͝ǫ̵̢̢̧̨̧̡̡̢̢̨̢̢̢̢̡̨̢̡̢̡̧̛̛̛̛̛̫̦̖̝̝̙̱̪̝͍̭͉͙̻̼̳̳̯̲̩̹̖̖͖͚̗̤͓͈̹͔͇̦̳̼̜̘͎̲̙̱͕̣͇̮̰̦͎̝̺̠̮̯̮̺̺̞͇̭̤͎̰̰̘̦̲͚͚̱̗̺͔̯͎̙̼̲͙̘̮͚̺͉̗̹͔͙͔̭̟͚̖̠̤̥͓̞̤̮̥̘͈̜̗̣͔̻̮̞̯̗͈͓͙̩͓̖̥̙̲͇̰̦͉̼̜̱̗͈͙̗̯̳̥͕̖̼̭͇̘̬̘̗͖͎̖̳̱̰̫̹̝̟̗̲̘͖̤̟̥̼͔̰̼͈͔̱͈̙̯͉̻̖͎̘̤̫̮͇̭̜̭̹̳̪͎͚̣̯̻̲̬̱̪̹͌͂͂͆̂̇̋̉̂̉͂̓̎̉̓̊͆̉̓͌̐͌͑̽̂̆̍̐̓̂̓͆̽̈́̂̓͒̿̓̈́̈́̾̇̏̍͐͌̃͛̊̀͆͆͛͑̋̽̒̌̃̓̐̑̈́̊͗̑̌͊̍̅͊̒̃̇̓̀̓͑̿̅̀̄̋̈́̾́̽̆̓̀̎̅̈͒̈̍̂̒̾̓̋̆̐̃̊̄͑͗̐͆̿̈̃̈̄̈̅̎̌̂͂͊͐̓̒̃̈́̓̇͑̄̒̂͋̂͋̀̂̽̑͌̌̀̊͋̌̉͂̿̒̌͌̌̓͂͆̄̅̇͆̏̅͑̌͂̊͑̎͐́͒͐̏̈͂̊͆̃͛͒̔̓̐͛͗̽̋̔̒̎̾̋̋̀͌͒͌̈̉̑̔̔̐͂̊̔̒̑̍̈́̏̔̓̇̚̚̕̕̚̚͘̚͘̕̕͜͜͜͜͠͝͠͠͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅͅn̷̨̢̡̨̡̡̢̢̡̧̧̡̛̛̺̤͖̺͈͉̹̥̝̹̯̪̺̻̤̭̺̙̟͓̮̣͈͈͎̞͙͓̭̺̦̙̥̭̥͖̻͚͎͕̲͈̞͉̥̣̥̰̼͓͉̪̰̘͓̬̞̟̘̙̥̙̜̙̙͓̳̻͔͇͇̹̈̈́͑̉̓̏̎̈́͗͌̎̌̾̎͐̀͑̂̈́͐̄͆̊͐̐̈́̅̔̒̃̇̆̈́̈̃̽͒̂̐͛̈́̄͑̽̽̓͋̓͆̓̓̓̓̔͋̓̑͌́̓͗̋̋͗̽̈́̎̈̈́̆̆͂̇͐͐̋̽̀͆̓͋͌̈́̾̂͊͛̈̀̀̽͆́̔̿̐̉͛̇͂̅̒̇̐̆̐͋͋̀̈́̈́̎͒̋͐̔͒̅̎̎̇̌̐̒̔̋̈́̍̑̚̕̕͘̕̕͘͘͘͘̕͜͜͜͜͜͜͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͝ͅͅͅͅ_̵̧̢̢̧̡̢̡̡̨̢̢̨̨̢̧̨̧̧̧̧̨̡̜̝̮̘̰̮̙̰͖̪̜̥͕̹͉̖̰̞͉̠̳͙͖͉̜̳̤͍̼̻̝̙̼̠͍͔̗̳̫͎̗̥̹̥̩̱̬̟͚̝̮͖̬̞̠͚̬̮̬̤̹͈̺̪̼̹̘̳͈͙͓̱̮̫̠͎̙͚̮͔̝͇̼̥̻̬̩̠̫̥͔̞͕̤̯͙̲̩̣̦̺͚͕̪͙̱͕̤͈͖̘͈̳̤̟̮̪̞͔̯͓̟̤͔̦̝̭̤͙̪̠̞̣̦̝̱̩̮̦͉̠͇͕̣̱̺̹̥̩̣̯͇̮̤͚͍̥͉̱̯͇̮̩̝͎̤̮͕͓̱̞̲̖̙͓̠̋̽̽̾͂͑̅̈͂̊͆̈́͋̉̌̐́̈͆̕̚͜͜͜͝ͅͅͅS̷̡̛̛̛̛̱̣̞͈̣͉̞̦̞͓͍̙̠͚̰͓͚͍̒̊͌̓̒͛͑̈́̓̔̇̑͗͆͒̏͌͑́̍͋͊̍̃̀̅̆̆̀̃͑͋͆̏̅͛̊́͋̎̆̔̈͋̓̋̿͆̅̎̔̅̋́̂͒̈͐͊͊̉̆̆̃̒̓͗̎̎̏̇̆̆̂̃̈́̏̊͋͑̆̋̑̎̍̓̄̈́̏̇̆̇͑͗̒̐̏͒̀͗͌͛̂̾̉͗͐̇̂́͊͗͊̈́̑̈̾̀̈͋̽͂̓͛͌̈́̈̽̓́͐̀͌͛̌̐̚̕͘͘͘͘̕͘̚͘͘͝͠͝͝͠͠͝͠͝͝͝͝͝ë̴̡̡̢̡̡̢̨̧̡̡̨̢̨̨̡̨̛̛̦̮̝̫͎͚̮̳̤͉͙̞̞͚͚̣̻̳͎̣̹͍̬͖͚̻͇̪̩͈̝͓̦̭̪͍̹̩̰̣̱̟̩͇͎͙͇̙̣̘̹̗͉̟͎̗̩̬̲͉͈̝̠̙̥̗͚̻̗̻͉̣̱̱͚̠̰̻̟̤̺̗͖̮͕͉̳̯̻̗̱̯̞̜̦͓̯̲̣̘̖͎͎͎̭̳̘͖̲̘͈̪͎͚̪͈̱̞̲̦̳͈̝͙̟͍̞̪͉̟͙̤̹̖̥͉̳̖͇̙̱̲̪̝͍̰̝͈̪̭͈̰͖̘͔͍̺̜͈̻͉̙̝͕̗͙͚̩́̐̑̌͂̂̏̆̿̂̆̓̅͐͊̍̍̈́͐͊̈́͌̅̊͆̍͌͐̃͊̉̒̈́́͋̋̍̽͊͗̓̅̿̑̀̈́͑̄̓͛̑̌͘̕̕̚͘͘̕̕͜͜͜͝ͅͅͅn̷̡̢̛̛̛̛̛̪͈̳͓̳̼̦̝̝̩̣̳͔͉̭̭̥͙̥͙̝̰͙̰͍̖̪͓̣̫̦͖̓̇̿̉̀͛̑̂͑͌̓̇̓̊̄͌̑̅̿̃͗͌̈́̽̽̒͂̀̉̅͋̿͂̈́̈́͐̀̇̓̆͊̈́̋̎̇̈̔̄͋̌̌̀̄̾͂̄̎̊͂͂̆̂͆͂̿̋͊͆̊͊͆̌͗̈́̌̍͊̐̊̾͆̐͂͌̿̏̌̓͋̈́̆̽̓̅̔͂̋̓͗̀̀̈́̒̓̾̎̊̈́́͐͐̀͛̿̊͑̏͗͊͂̄̌̔̒͑̿̇̇͛̓̎̈́̽̈̓͆̍̍͌̋̄̓͛̓̍͋̎͐̿͐͆̊͗̿͑̂̑͗̋͋̓͋̐̃͌̌͗̆̊̊̎̔̃̂̈͗̒̈̌̈́̍̋̏͐̎̌̅̐̃͌̽͊̽̈́̂̽̂̈́́͌͘̚̕͘̕̚̚͘̕͘̚̕͘̕̕͝͝͠͠͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ş̵̨̢̨̡̛̛̛̛̛̛̛͉͈͓̲̯̖͖͓̬̜̳̝͇͉̠̳͙̦̣̜͕͖̦͎̮͎̪̱̯͇̙̲͍̮̊͆̎͒̎͌̐̾͌̊̎̎̐̾͆̽͂̓̅͊̂̈̃̿̔̓̈́̋̿͗̓͂̒̃̎̐̒̿͗̆̊͆͒̅̈́̎͐̃̊̏̐̈́͋̊͆̉̀̈́͂̃̆̇̃͛̍͑̈́̓͆͑͌̓͛͂̽́̈́͗̂͋̂͋͗͂͛̃̽͌̏͊͘͘̚̚̚̕͘͘͝͝͠͠͝͝͝͠ḙ̸̡̛̛͓̩̩̼̖͕̲̪̼͔̺̣̳̼̘̗͕̗̦͖̙͕͎̼̜̙̗̪͖͎͇̙͎̪̫͈̟͓͇̫̳̬͕̤̩̻̲̹̳̃̌̿͋̄̔͂̍̒̈́̑̂̋̿̍͛͆͛̅̒̔̽͑̊͂̅͊̒̒̾̿̆̒̏̄͒̆͆̓̏̎̄̀̾̑̅̊̀̐̓̔͋̿̅͛̒̑̓̄͂͌͋̎̓͂͛͗̀̈̇͆̋̋̆͆͐͑̋͂́̚͘̚̚̚͝͝͝͝͝͠ͅị̴̢̢̡̡̧̧̨̧̨̛̮͓̬̟͖͓͓̖̞̩̭͍̲̭̰̞̻͉͓͙͈͇̙̼̝̖̖͓͙͕̻̺͎̼̜̣͔͇̣̮̯̤̹͔̳̱̯̫̣̜̻͕͉̝̲̩͎̼̩̣͕̗̳̘͖̝͚̞̙̖̬͙̮͖̰͎̪͚̫̤̭̹̻̖̹̞̭̝͚͖̥̪̙̭̳̈́͆̈͆̈́͗̆͛̋͑͌͑̓̅̈́̾̈́̑̿͛͊̾̈́͊͊̄͊̎̌͂̑̅̑̓̇̑͒͗̽͐̿̋̅́̐͊̊͑̈́̄̀́̓̇͛̽̾͘͘͜͜͠͝ͅͅ

 

 

 


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